Changing Tides
by Madre de Muerte
Summary: Everyone has their soulmate's name written on their wrist. Clint tries his best not think about his own until one day he notices it changed. He didn't know that could happen.


Clint wears a purple wristband. People ask but his glare shuts them up quickly. He likes purple that is all he'll say on the matter. The name on his wrist is Vera Wilson.

Natasha keeps hers beige or flesh colored to show she is not interested or looking. He knew her wrist was bare; the remainder of a Red Room procedure. Natasha told her they would place the name of a mark or target there when needed. If not a generic name was placed on there to keep people from being suspicious.

SHIELD had a similar procedure but was only used voluntarily. At least that was what the rumors said. Most of SHIELD wore nude or black bands.

Sometimes he would see the white of newfound love, reds for traditional and personal reasons and a variety of colors. Thor did not have a name and found the concept strange. Tony Stark wore a simple metal band. Pepper Potts wore its twin. No one knew for certain whether they matched. Bruce wore a simple nude band. Steve wore a black widower's band.

Out of all the stories and records on Captain America his Match remained a mystery. He refused to turn over the name and once the Serum worked refused to even consider it. A rumor had said it had been his best friend Bucky Barnes and that he was interested in a more than acceptable platonic relationship that had been expected between matches of the same sex. However the name on Bucky Barnes' wrist was not that of a man.

Coulson wore grey. He never asked why.

Clint wore purple. Once he had worn white, then a golden band. Then nothing at all.

Vera had been beautiful and his Match. Once upon a time he had convinced himself that that was enough. The bruises did not matter. The shattered plates or broken electronics were nothing. Vera liked to drink but not so much like his father. He thought he could make it work.

For a year he had stayed with her. A year and four months. The romance died within three months. The abuse had started five months in. Any money he made she quickly drank away. It wasn't working and he could only blame himself, like his father had his mother. He lived in constant fear, stress, and anxiety. He thought about drinking. Wished he could return to the circus.

He left her when she broke his arm and left him at the hospital alone.

He managed to return home and found her passed out in their bed. He had considered giving her another chance until he saw that his bow had been snapped in two. His arrows shattered. He packed his bags while she slept. Before he left he took off the golden band from her wrist and sold it along with his.

When he had enough money he bought a cheap plastic one. He chose purple.

Clint avoided romance like a plague. All big romances focused on Matches and their Happy Endings. When he began to read about the Matches in greater detail he wondered if he had simply had bad luck and paired off with the wrong One. Barely twenty percent of people found their One. As unlikely as it was it could be possible that he had found the wrong Vera Wilson and she the wrong Clinton Francis Barton.

He only believed that for a few months.

Then there was SHIELD and he forgot about Vera.  
He didn't know when the name changed. He didn't know it was even possible. He had been rubbing the sleep from his eyes when he realized there was something wrong with his wrist. The name on his wrist read: Phillip James Coulson.

That, that couldn't be right.

He went to medical. Medical had his Match on file. "There is nothing to worry about Agent Barton." Dr. Weaver had told him smiling happily for him. "It is rare but names sometimes do change."

"Then it wouldn't be a Match." Clint said stupidly.

"We all change. Our Match should compliment us and that usually is the same person but death, illness, and simply life can affect it. I suggest you talk to Agent Coulson. You do not have to be with him if he is your Match. You always have a choice Agent Barton."

Clint nodded but said did not see Coulson outside of work for the next two months. Was Clint Coulson's match all along? Is this why he wore the grey when he knew Vera was-had been his? Was he waiting for the right Clinton Francis Barton? Had it changed?

Finally he talked to him, away from SHIELD, away from the Avengers, and Stark Tower in an empty diner.

"What is it Barton?" Coulson had asked concerned.

"Am I your match?" He had asked bluntly, taking off his band and showing him his wrist. Coulson froze. After a moment he nodded, took off his band and showed it to him. Clint recognized his chicken scratch anywhere. That was his name. "Was I always there?"

"No." Coulson said. "I had Mona, once. I don't know what happened to her or why it changed but I know that at least a month after I met you I had your name. You still had your Other though."

"Yeah. I don't know when it changed." Clint said. "Does this mean I can call you Phil?" Coulson, Phil, glared. "Outside of work, sir."

"I think that would be best." then he frowned. "Do you want to do this? I heard that you met your One but left." Clint nodded slowly. "Why?" Phil shook his head. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked that."

"No, you, I-" Clint closed his eyes. "Can we not talk about her yet?" Phil nodded. "I don't know what to do." He said helplessly because it had started so differently with her, with feelings of relief and happiness that he would fit somewhere. Now he was just desperate for something to happen.

"I don't either." Phil said. "How about we start with coffee?"

He had jumped into his relationship with Vera years ago. Had that been his mistake? Would it have changed anything? "Yeah, I can do that. Just not that shitty stuff you like." Then. "I'm still wearing my band." His choice, his choice the doctor had said and Phil was giving him this choice.

"Okay." Coulson agreed. "Do you want me to leave mine grey?"

"Do what you want, just not white." He said because he didn't love Phil…or did he? He didn't know. Phil nodded.

"Good, so what now?"

"I don't know. I haven't dated in a while."

"Neither have I." There was an awkward pause then: "Who do you think Nat's going to give the shovel talk to?" Phil laughed.


End file.
